A shard
“Well, no, I would never date you, but I would like to still be f*$# buddies.”
Oh yes, dear ones, the apple of my eye for the last year and a half or so really said that to me the other day. Before anyone gasps, clutches their pearls and reaches for the black salt, this is something I have suspected for a quite a while, but he’s never really had the wherewithal to tell me. Usually I get some vague mixed message coupled with reassuring affection, and this has only been a suspicion that plagues me. Hearing it was hard but liberating at the same time.
I was so proud of myself for responding quite calmly, “You know, I’m a pretty good catch. Why would I have sex with someone who would never date me?”
I was not at all ready for his laser-like and sincere response: “You know, you really don’t carry yourself like you believe that.” He was right, of course, but I really didn’t think anyone else could see that. Obviously, it’s how I keep meeting guys with his fatal flaw. It’s pretty much the story of my romantic life in my 30’s. And now with just a few months left in my 30’s, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve been selling myself short all this time, but I was really startled that this guy knew it.
I’m in the dark half of an Adjustment year, which is no picnic, I’ll tell you. To make things even more interesting, I have taken an office within my beloved Brotherhood of the Phoenix that is aligned with the planet Mars. Suddenly I’ve gone from quiet and easy-going to, “Look out! He’s got a sword, and he’s not afraid to use it!” I really have been working with my selling myself short in earnest since Samhain. I haven’t seen him since about then, because he’s been too busy feeling sorry for himself about the rest of his life in general and about someone who was “worth dating” in particular. He hasn’t seen the changes since then, even if I have. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have responded in September as I did the other day.
He went on to tell me what a great guy I am, which is true enough, and give me advice that I completely agreed with and had even figured out and implemented without him. I reciprocated. He actually seemed grateful for the wisdom I imparted to him about his current melancholy. I know that in our own way, we really do understand and appreciate each other. In most respects, except for the obvious divergence in the trajectory of our acquaintance, this is the man I have always wanted to meet. I suppose then that it is true that all sincere requests are answered, but the form is always unexpected.
One of the lessons of my recent shadow work is an awareness of this shard of myself, which apparently even dolts (and I say that lovingly) can see. I haven’t figured out yet how to change this jagged piece of myself, or at the very least buff some of the sharper edges. It may be work for the light half of the year.
Who is this Flower above me?
And what is the work of this God?
I would know myself in all my parts.
Be careful what you ask for, dear ones. All sincere requests are answered, but the form is always unexpected.